


Other Mirror

by EmbryonicHarmonic



Category: Gundam 00, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Empire AU, Gen, Missing Limbs, shameless crossover, there are no victors here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13783284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmbryonicHarmonic/pseuds/EmbryonicHarmonic
Summary: The Altean Empire destroyed so many in its wake. The Eternal Innovator is another threat to be marched over and destroyed.





	Other Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NinthFeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinthFeather/gifts).



> For Ninth and SapphireSwimming (I had no idea what your AO3 name was I am so sorry)

He had watched Daibazaal burn. 

Not just burn, die. 

The planet, the fleets fleeing from the hand of the Altean Empire, rising to power after calamity and strife. There was no saving them, nothing he could do to stop them. He was only one person, and he could not fight an army. He had only been able to watch from the castleship, arms wrenched behind his back painfully that he could feel the bone strain and the metal of his skin bending and bowing. Forced to his knees, he could do nothing but watch. 

It was a flash of light, and a shockwave that shook the entire ship, and then nothing but a stone corpse. It was nothing. It was something ghastly, hollowed out like the bone of an ancient beast. 

The Galra were no more. 

Their people scattered, to be hunted down by the Alteans. Their king, dead trying to defend them, to stop this madness from marching across the galaxy. 

They had failed.

Both of them.

Setsuna had screamed, the pain from such a horror ripping through his core. He could not stop himself until there was only silence and nothingness, his head falling forwards with his eyes wide, staring at the too-clean floor of the bridge. 

“It is over, Innovator.”

Alfor. 

Steel pressed against his throat, forcing his head up to look in the eyes of the Altean he had once called a friend. Someone he once had stood alongside. A man he had so solidly trusted, now ready to lob his head off if he so much as tried to fight. Anger burned in him. Something he had not felt so strongly since he had been human. And that had been years, THOUSANDS of years. 

“Submit to us. There is no one out there who will save you. The Altean Empire will grow strong.”

Setsuna had not surrendered to anyone, and he would not start now. 

And Altea had not yet found a way to bar his abilities.

\---

How long had he been running? 

He stopped counting, his feet hitting the dust and dirt of the dead planet. 

He was so tired. 

He had screamed, he had sent signals to the far corners of space. Someone had to listen to him. Someone, somewhere out there had to have heard him, and hopefully they would be warned of the Altean Empire, marching their machines across space with a vile, relentless power that he could not stop. Even he couldn’t control all of their ships. He was not that powerful. 

Setsuna hoped that there could be a resistance, one day, that they would be able to fight back.

His stomach lurched, looking up at the sky.

One ship.

Then three.

Seven castleships.

They landed, troops being deployed in such great numbers that Setsuna could not count them all. He took a breath, forming ELS weaponry from his arms. He was not going to go down without a fight, without something. He was not going to be their destroyer. He would not be their arms dealer, fashioning ELS-ships and armor for them. Even if he died here, he would die free. 

Thousands of troops bore down on him.

And he charged.

\----

Ten thousand years.

He remembered it. 

It had been ten thousand years since he had seen Daibazaal burn. 

Every day since had been an endless torture. 

Alfor had been right, he didn’t need his limbs to produce ELS shards to be fashioned into weapons and armaments. He was striped of any sense of freedom, water pumped down his throat at regular intervals, poured over him until his limbs could reform. The sunlamp never went out. He could not even see darkness if he closed his eyes. 

He forgot the stars.

He forgot the silence of space. The emptiness. The cold. 

He had stopped screaming thousands of years ago, his throat ruptured and rebelled. He stopped fighting, his limbs were taken from him every time he tried. Once they regenerated, they were cut from him again. 

Water washed over him, and he coughed, sputtering before the tube was shoved down his throat again.

Production must have been slowing down.

Who still knew he existed? There was no one left outside of the Empress and her closest confidants, wasn’t it? 

Even the worlds he left forgot his name.

Maybe one day it would stop.

Maybe.


End file.
